It's like college all over again; I can never seem to get ready by 10 am.

Yesterday we had a handyman out to hook up the kitchen sink and dishwasher. I woke up at 7 (which now seems terribly early, three weeks ago I was on the freeway by that time). I fed Owen. I showered. I got one contact in and had to feed Owen again. I spent about an hour with only one contact in. More feedings, additional five minute increments of getting ready. I was seriously concerned that the handyman would be here before I put a shirt on. Same thing happened today. The handyman couldn't hook the dishwasher back up (the copper pipe cracked) so now I have a plumber here. And I barely clothed myself before he got here. And its not like I'm wearing anything complicated, I'm ashamed to admit that I've fallen into the Nordstrom catalog "I'm a mom and I wear modified sweats every day" trap already (and all without actually purchasing anything through the Nordstrom catalog).

I don't want to brag, but we're getting a new toilet also. We've been without a functioning toilet in the master bath for months now. There's just one tiny part that needs replacing, but parts are no longer sold for that kind of toilet (which can't be more than 20 years old) so we have to get a whole new toilet. What a scam. I mean, if I had a car that was 20 years old, I could still buy parts for it. Anyone every heard of interchangeable parts in the plumbing industry? Was it secretly toilet manufacturers and not environmentalists that pushed for low-flo toilet regulations? Why can't the government stay out of my bathroom? (On a side note, can someone please explain to me why congress cares about the whole baseball-steroids thing? Why are our tax dollars going towards something so stupid? I brought this up with Leo today and he told me that Howard Stern was saying the same thing. Howard Stern still is, and always will be evil, but he has a point.)

The plumber asked to see where the water main is. I showed him, but that also involved explaining why there is a stuffed (real) goat's head under the stairs (thank you, Stella family). I think he is thoroughly afraid of me now. I bet I'll get a rep amongst plumbers as a devil worshiper.

My old broken toilet was just carried out the door.

Well, enough of my babble, I'm being paged again by the baby. How soon until he learns how to make his own lunch?